


That's How I Know

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, American Harry, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, British Louis Tomlinson, Coach Louis, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Hate to Love, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Midwest, Mutual Pining, POV Harry, POV Louis, POV Multiple, Professor Harry, Riding, Sexual Tension, Smut, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles.  Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee (dinosaursmate)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaursmate/gifts).



> Thank you to my beta taggiecb for holding my hand as always. xx
> 
> One of the characters in this fic is an African grey parrot. I've actually learned quite a bit about them in order to write the fic. Their intelligence has been recorded as being about that of a 5-6 year old child, and they do tend to mimic the voices of their owners. However, I probably did take some liberties with Darcy the Parrot's abilities.
> 
> The song title is from Ed Sheeran's Kiss Me, but every time I look at it I start singing Whitney Houston's How Will I Know. Sigh.
> 
> This fic has been translated into Russian by [bestiebabygirl](https://bestiebabygirl.tumblr.com/) and can be found [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/6962895)

 

/// JUNE ///

Louis opens his eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom.  His muscles ache, but it’s not a pleasant ache like the kind you have after you’ve gone home with someone fit. He frowns. It’s been awhile since he’s had that kind of ache. No, this is the ache of someone who only had a few friends willing to help him move into his new house yesterday. He glances at the unpacked boxes stacked in the room. He really needs to spend time today unpacking those.

He sits up with a sigh, stretching his arms high above his head. He needs to be across town in two hours to coach a club match, but that should still be enough time to run a few miles and explore his new neighborhood.

He hops down the steps two at a time and twists his way through the obstacle course of cardboard boxes littering his living room and into the kitchen. He takes a gulp of water from his sink before heading out into the summer morning, a bottle of water in his hand.

He’s learned over the last ten years he’s spent in the Midwest that if you want to go on a run in June, you need to be up and about early else you’ll be sorry. By mid-day the air becomes so thick with humidity you’re fairly choking on it. Combine that with the heat, and it’s not the most pleasant running conditions. Now when he’s playing soccer, he can nearly forget about the temperature. Out for a run, not so much.

In any case, he’s learned to adapt, and if he’s honest, he quite likes the extreme change of seasons here. Spring reminds him a bit of home with the rain and the green lushness. Summer heats you straight through your bones until you can’t remember what it feels like to be chilled. Fall leaves change into outrageous colors transforming once familiar places into ones that inspire gasps at their loveliness. Winter bringing a brutal chill and mounds of snow and ice that would absolutely bring London to a stand still, but here doesn’t even cancel class. Yes, he quite likes it here along the banks of the Mississippi River even if he does feel a pang of homesickness here and there for Doncaster, but more for his family than anything else.

As he jogs down his street and out into the broader areas of campus, he takes in his surroundings as he blasts Queen through his earbuds. He takes note of how long it takes him to get to the stadium and the practice fields. It’s nearly deserted at this time on a Saturday especially with the university out for summer, leaving behind only the students taking summer courses who are definitely not up early today. The Augustus University campus is really quite beautiful. Older brick and stone buildings interspersed with more modern ones housing what he thinks might be the theater arts building. Intricate landscaping amidst the quad leads you around a slough and bridge and even a small gazebo right at its banks. He jogs back around a few blocks west of the campus into one of the neighborhoods surrounding the university.

As his house comes into view, he slows to a walk and notices his next door neighbor is out in his yard pruning a bush. He has a chance to take a long look before his neighbor notices him approaching. He looks to be about his own age, tall with his long hair tied back in a bun. The neighbor reaches up high to make a snip, and he notices the lean muscles of the man’s arms as well as his very long legs. Nice. Very nice. He stops in front of his own house and finishes his cool down, but his neighbor still doesn’t seem to notice him as he’s that absorbed with his task. Louis makes it to his neighbor’s front gate before the man finally notices him.

“Hello!” Louis says in a friendly tone. “I’m your new neighbor. Just moved in yesterday actually.”

The man gives him a smile and wipes his brow on the sleeve of his t-shirt before walking quickly to the gate. He takes off one of his gardening gloves and smiles as he reaches out a hand. The man is very fit, green eyes glinting in the sun, full pink lips, and dimples.  The dimples are quite something.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you--” Christ, this Harry has a deep voice.

“Louis. Tomlinson.” Louis says as he shakes hands with him. “Nice to meet you as well. I’m the new soccer coach here. You work at Augustus, too, I’d imagine?”

“Yes, I do. I’m an English professor. I like to be able to walk to work, so it made sense to buy a home nearby.”

“Nice,” Louis replies. “I prefer to be nearby myself as well. In case someone from the team needs me after hours.”

“That’s quite generous of you.”

Louis shrugs. “Goes with the territory in my opinion. Being a coach isn’t a nine to five. Which reminds me, I’ve got to get to a club match here pretty soon. Was really nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Oh, wait just a moment, if you can!” Harry calls out as he turns away. “I have something for you.”

Louis turns back curiously as Harry trips up the steps and into his house. He comes back a few moments later with a decorative tin and a broad smile.

“I’ve baked you a housewarming gift,” Harry says as he opens the tin to reveal what appear to be homemade cookies. Louis’ mouth waters. He hasn’t eaten breakfast yet, and he takes the tin and immediately shoves a cookie into his mouth.

“Oh.” Harry clears his throat. “I hope you like them.”

“Oh my fucking god, this is delicious,” Louis says between mouthfuls of cookie.

“Yes, well, I’ve used steel cut oatmeal and Madagascar vanilla, which I think really gives the cookie a little something special.”

As Louis stuffs another one in his mouth, Harry looks at him a bit askance. “Sorry, I’m really hungry. Haven’t eaten anything yet today.”

“Hmmm. Yes.” Harry glances over his shoulder at Louis’ house.  “Well, I hope you intend to keep up the property better than my last neighbors. As you can see they didn’t care much about maintaining the landscaping.”

Louis looks at his own yard and sees nothing offensive that he can tell. Maybe a few weeds here and there.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I don’t mind cutting the grass every once in awhile and whatnot.”

Harry is eying him as though he’ll be able to tell in this moment whether or not Louis will be properly taking care of the lawn.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you'll want to do something about that long planter next to the house. It's such an eyesore. Surely, you'll keep the rose bush that trying to survive in that weed infested soil, but other than that I suppose--"

Louis starts backing away towards his own house. “Well, I should really be going now. The game starts soon. Thanks for the cookies, Harry!”

As soon as Louis is safely back inside his house, he pours himself a glass of milk and eats a few more cookies. They really are quite tasty. He wonders briefly what a steel cut oatmeal is, but soon enough he’s back out the door and in his truck headed to the game.

///

Harry watches his new neighbor practically run back to his own house, clutching Harry’s cookies as if he’s found treasure. He must be one of those people who don’t cook or bake seeing as how he’d inhaled that cookie, crumbs flying all over himself. It was honestly a bit shocking the lack of manners there. Well, he did say thank you though.

Harry already feels a bit wary, knowing his new neighbor is a coach. It would be one thing if he seemed to be a family man, but it appears he’s the only occupant of the house. Hopefully, he won’t be too raucous over there. He narrows his eyes in the direction of the house. He’s not sure he has much hope that this Louis person will be good at upkeep of the general appearance of the place. Maybe if he gives him some pointers here and there. Harry frowns, but then he decides to get back to his own gardening. It will be too hot very quickly here, and he’d best get done what he needs to get done this morning. He finishes pruning the bushes next to his house and then moves on to watering the flower beds. Their bright colors bring a smile to his face. His smile dims a bit when he catches sight of a weed, but he quickly pulls it and all is right again with his world.

As it’s a Saturday, he doesn’t have much planned. He is teaching a summer section of English, but he decides to forgo looking over next week’s assignments in favor of making sun tea. He checks his weather app just in case, and yes, it looks to be the perfect weather for it. Plenty of sunshine.

He cleans his tools with the garden hose and stores them neatly away in the garage in back of his house before stopping in the mudroom just inside the back door. He toes off the slightly dirty old sneakers he uses when gardening and heads into the laundry room where he throws the gloves in the laundry hamper next to the washing machine. It leads him out into the kitchen where he hears Darcy click a bit in her cage.

“Hello, Darcy. Would you like to come out?”

“You know it,” the parrot replies.

Harry smiles and goes to let Darcy out of her cage. She stands on her perch just outside it and watches as he takes out a large half-gallon mason jar for the tea. He begins filling the jar with water and asks, “Would you like some grapes?”

“Banana,” Darcy responds.

Harry glances over at the fruit bowl. There’s only one banana left, and he’d really like to eat it himself. He finishes filling the jar with water and sets it on the counter and goes to check the refrigerator for grapes. He takes out a handful of them and gives them a good rinse. Even if they are organic, it’s not as though they’re completely clean to eat. Although birds in the wild probably eat their fruit with a bit of dirt on them. Hmmm, something to think about. He holds out a grape for Darcy. She takes it in her toes before he notices she’s giving him ‘The Look.’ She ruffles out her grey feathers and cocks her head sideways.

“Oh, great. What now?” Harry asks.

“Banana!” Darcy calls out as she hurls the grape at him.

Harry sighs and retrieves the grape from the floor and tosses it into the compost bin. He wonders how it has come to this and then shares his banana with Darcy. She’s still giving him The Look, and he knows she’ll not be cooperating with him at all today.

“I see you’ll be behaving with less table manners than our new neighbor. At least Louis didn’t throw the cookie at me,” Harry scolds her. “Although you leave less crumbs about than he does.”

He turns away to finish making the sun tea, tossing several bags of tea into the water and stirring it up a bit, before sealing it and walking back outside to find a sunny spot. When he walks back in, Darcy seems to have flown away from her perch. She must be elsewhere in the house. He knows he should probably have her wings clipped, but he just doesn’t have the heart to do that. He’s very careful, and Darcy has never tried to escape. He shrugs and heads off to take a shower. She’ll probably show up then as she loves to sing duets with him while he sings, so he leaves the door open.

He steps into the warm spray and lets the water rush through his hair as he begins to hum. There’s a tune running through his head, but he can’t quite place the song.  He hums a few more bars and words to a song he hasn’t heard in years begin to form on his lips.

 

> _Blue eyes_
> 
> _He’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _Oh, he’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _See him again_
> 
> _I want to see him again_

It’s not quite right, but he sings the words he remembers a few times, and then finally hears Darcy join in. He smiles at the sound of her, until he realizes he’s got the lyrics wrong. Hmmmm. He seems to have the wrong pronouns. Surely, this can’t be because of the new neighbor.

Louis.

He did have blue eyes. Very pretty blue eyes.

“Louis,” Darcy says.

“What?” Harry exclaims, peeking out at Darcy from behind the shower curtain. “How did you--did I say that out loud?”

“Louis?” Darcy asks. She just looks back at him, innocently. Very odd.

He spends the rest of the afternoon letting his hair air dry and leisurely grades a few assignments. He brings in the sun tea and drinks a glass of it and feeds Darcy a small bowl of sunflower seeds and bits of apple and kale.

Then, he dresses for dinner with Zayn.

He’s very glad he’s stayed in touch with his old high school friends. Zayn’s now an art teacher at their old high school, and it’s always fun to hear the gossip about some of the stuff that goes on there now. He’s really looking forward to it. He finds Darcy in the living room and lets her back into her cage in the kitchen.

“Bye, Darcy,” he calls out.

“I love you,” she says with a few clicking noises as well.

“I love you, too, Darcy,” he replies back as he flips the lights off and heads out into the summer evening.

When he returns home later that night, he nearly trips over the decorative tin he’d given Louis earlier as it has been placed next to the back door. He picks it up and notices there’s a note taped to it. He brings it inside, careful not to turn on the lights or disturb Darcy in her cage as he tiptoes through the kitchen and into the living room. He turns on a lamp and sees that the note is scrawled on the back of a torn envelope.

_Thank you for the cookies! They were delicious. Sorry about the mess of crumbs I was making with them. Was really that hungry though._

The note isn’t signed and instead ends with a small smiley face wherein the eyes are Xs. Harry furrows his eyebrows in thought. The envelope is a bit crass, but the man did just move in. Perhaps, he couldn’t locate his thank you cards or a proper piece of stationary paper at the moment. He glances down at the smiley face, and his lips twitch a bit. Well, it is a rather charming little doodle.

Over the next several days, Harry notices his neighbor doesn’t leave the house too often. It seems he mainly leaves fairly early in the morning for a run. In tank tops sometimes. In soccer shorts always. Harry tells himself it’s only natural that he admire Louis’ muscular legs and the fit of his shorts. The man is very aesthetically pleasing to look at after all. Harry knows all this because he happens to be in his front yard pruning things or weeding things when Louis comes jumping down his front porch in the morning and sends a quick smile and wave to Harry before he’s off jogging down their street. Although the best part of this whole little routine is probably the cool down that Louis completes in full view of Harry.  Louis stretching out his muscles is quite--alluring.

The next day Harry stands in front of his house and finds there’s very little gardening to do. He’s been doing a bit more gardening than usual, he supposes. He frowns and glances over at Louis’ house wondering if he’ll be out soon for a run. Not that he’s waiting for that or anything. Louis suddenly does make an appearance, coming from the back of his house with what looks to be a rusty old spade that the previous owners of his house probably had left behind. Louis props it up against a weed filled planter that abuts his house and then, goes around back of the house, returning with a small wheelbarrow. Louis seems quite determined about something and hasn’t really noticed Harry watching him.

“Hello,” Harry calls out.

Louis has just picked up the spade, but he sets it down beside him to offer a smile and a hello to Harry.

“Finally getting a start on the yard?” Harry asks.

Louis looks a bit annoyed at the question. “Yes, well, been a bit busy unpacking the inside of my house to worry about what’s going on on the outside of it.”

“Of course,” Harry answers. “Well, I’m so glad you’ve decided to start here with this horrendous planter. It’s been just a terrible eyesore for a very long time. I don’t know how handy you are with gardening--”

He waits for Louis to either affirm or deny his experience with gardening, but he does neither, just looking at him a bit strangely.  Perhaps, he can’t decide what to do.

“Well, once you have this dug out and put in more soil to protect the rose bush, perhaps you could plant a native species garden!”

“A what?” Louis asks.

“A native species garden! One that has only plants that once grew wild in this area. There are various thoughts about them though. Some people consider a native species garden to be “native” just because it’s from the United States, but others generally prefer they at least come from the general area, like say the Midwest. _I’d_ really only consider it a true native species garden though if you did Illinois flowers, but it could be really interesting to just find plants from this exact area, wouldn’t it?”

Louis stares back at him oddly again. Perhaps a native species garden is a bit much. Maybe he’ll need something easier to care for. It was a nice dream while it lasted.

“Or you could consider perennials. That would be much--easier to care for,” he suggests gently.

“Perennials?” Louis asks.

He doesn’t even know what a perennial is? Great.

“It’s a plant that doesn’t need to be replanted each year,” Harry states a bit flatly.

Louis just stares back at him.

“It’s a plant that grows back on its own.” Harry can feel his lips beginning to purse.

“Oh,” Louis answers. “Uh, okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Well, I should probably get started.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll just get out of your way then.” Harry flashes him a smile. At the very least he won’t have to stare at all these weeds anymore, no matter what plants Louis decides to put in.

Harry watches in horror the next morning from his upstairs window as Louis empties the last of the planter, murdering the poor rose bush, and fills it with river rock.

///

Shoveling rock is no joke. Louis considers himself to be pretty physically fit. He’s got to keep up with college soccer players after all, but spending much of his morning shoveling river rock into that damn planter alongside his house has left him dripping with sweat and odd muscles protesting their overuse.

He flops down on his couch and downs a Gatorade as he flips on ESPN. Baseball won’t be on until later this afternoon, so he’ll have time to shower and maybe even take a nap. Starting a new job, moving, and landscaping has been a lot more exhausting than he’d realized it would be. He glances at some of the still packed boxes that litter his living room.

He’s just about to force himself to get off the couch and head for the shower when he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns towards the window and sees a grey bird perched on his window sill, staring in at him. Oh god. This bird again.

Last time, it stared at him through his kitchen window until he opened the window to shoo it away, and instead it had flown into his house and asked him his name and told him he didn’t have table manners and left too many crumbs when he eats. Must be some sort of parrot. Aren’t parrots supposed to be colorful though? Or at least green. Not that he knows much about birds, but he thought they were all either rainbow colored or green. This one is decidedly grey. It’s still staring in at him. He watches as it taps at his window with its beak.

Jesus. Fine. He opens the window, and of course, the bird flies in. It lands on his coffee table like it owns the place.

“Don’t take good advice when you hear it,” the bird says. Such an odd voice for a parrot to have. It speaks slowly with a strangely deep voice. And why is it so judgmental? Damn.

He doesn’t know if he’s supposed to respond or not. Can you have a conversation with a bird?

“What advice?” He asks warily.

“Don’t take good advice. Filled it with rock.”

And suddenly, Louis knows where he’s heard that slow, deep drawl before.

Harry.

This parrot, or whatever type of bird it is, must belong to his neighbor. Louis frowns. So his new neighbor thinks he’s a messy eater and doesn’t take his advice concerning bullshit gardening tips. And his new neighbor apparently has a pet bird that is even more nosy than he is.

“Why don’t you fly away home, bird?” He opens the window up a bit more. The bird doesn’t move.

“Fine. I’ll leave the window open. Be gone when I come back,” he warns. He stalks upstairs to take a shower, and when he comes back downstairs, the bird appears to have gone.

The game will be on any minute here, and Louis sets up some snacks and drinks. He closes the window as it looks like the parrot has gone, but he warily looks around for a bit just to be sure. His friends have a standing invitation to hang out for Cubs games, but no one’s texted to say they’re coming except Niall. So he’s a bit surprised to hear voices just outside. He listens intently for a minute, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. Then, he hears a brief knock at the door.

“Lemme in, Tommo. There’s a creepy bird out here talkin’ to me.”

He gets up to let Niall in and wonders where the bird is out there and if he should shoo it the direction of Harry’s house.

“What the fuck is with that bird?” Niall asks, looking ruffled. “It told me I parked too close to the rocks.”

Louis laughs. “It’s my neighbor’s bird, I think. It’s a bit bossy. Where’s it at?”

“It’s sitting in all that rock you must have just put in.”

Louis walks outside in his bare feet to go have a look. There’s the bird sitting in his planter of rocks. It looks up at him.

“Nice rocks.”

“Uh, thanks.” Well, at least the bird likes the rocks. “Um, should you go home?”

The bird cocks its head sideways and stares at him. He gets the odd feeling the bird is going to sass him.

“You go home.”

What the fuck. Fucking sassy bird. “Fine, I will. Get out of my rocks.”

The bird just keeps giving him a sideways look as Louis narrows his eyes at it. He leaves it there in the rocks and heads back inside.

Not even two minutes after the game has started, there’s a tapping at his living room window. He tries to ignore it at first. He knows it’s that damn bird again, but of course, it doesn’t give up.

“Mate, I think that bird is knocking at your window,” Niall says, looking wide-eyed at the window.

“Just ignore it. It’ll give up,” Louis says. He hopes that’s true.

It’s not.

After a few more minutes of continuous pecking, Niall finally says, “Mate, please let that fucking bird inside or send it home or something. It’s driving me mad.”

Louis walks over the window and taps it. “Go on home now!”

It stops tapping only to stare at him sideways again.

“Fine,” Louis sighs as he opens the window and lets the bird fly in.

The bird perches nearby on the edge of his coffee table for most of the first inning, seeming to intently watch the game. By the fourth inning, the bird is repeating back much of what they’ve been shouting at the screen.

“Rizzzzzooooo!” The bird shouts in a voice that sounds uncannily like Niall.

“Fooking Cardinals!” The bird says in a sneering tone nearly identical to Louis’.

Kris Bryant comes up to bat in the seventh inning.

“Hope your boyfriend can get us a run, Lou.”

“Shut up, Niall. How long are you going to give me shit for that? One time. I said one time that I liked his blue eyes.”

Louis focuses back at the screen, when suddenly the bird starts singing.

 

> _Blue eyes_
> 
> _He’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _Oh, he’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _See him again_
> 
> _I want to see him again_
> 
>  

They both stare at the bird.

“Did the bird just--sing a song about blue eyes?” Louis asks. He just wants to make sure as it’s all seeming a bit weird at the moment.

“Yep. What the fuck is up with this bird, Tommo?”

“No clue. It’s a pain in the arse though. Just like it’s owner.”

Niall whips his head towards Louis, sensing a story. “Oh, really? Who’s the owner then? I know you said a neighbor, but have you actually met them?”

Louis just motions in the direction of Harry’s house. “English professor. Lives next door.  A little too into gardening. Seems to think I should do whatever he says.”

Niall barks out a laugh. “Ah, suppose you feel the need to do the exact opposite of whatever he says then?”

Louis grins. “You know me too well, Nialler.”

“Louis,” the bird says.

“What?” Louis replies.

Niall looks at them both incredulously. “The bird knows your name?”

“Well, it asked me the last time it came over, so I told it my name. I guess it remembers.”

“Louis,” the bird says again.

“What?” Louis says again.

The bird starts up its song again.

 

> _Blue eyes_
> 
> _He’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _Oh, he’s got pretty blue eyes_
> 
> _See him again_
> 
> _I want to see him again_
> 
>  

Niall laughs and applauds when the bird finishes. “I think that bird’s singing about your eyes, mate.”

Louis looks at the bird suspiciously. It’s honestly a bit weird to hear his neighbor’s distinctive voice singing a song about blue eyes to him.

Their attention goes back to the game when Bryant hits a home run. Enough so that Niall doesn’t at first notice that the bird is nibbling at his Hostess cupcake.

“Hey now!” Niall yells at the bird as it flies to the other side of the room. “Well, ya might as well eat it now, ya thief. I’m not eatin’ a cupcake that a bird’s been pecking at.”

“Bread,” the bird says. “Yummy bread.”

Niall looks sadly at the cupcake. “Yeah, it really was yummy bread.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “So go get another one. So fucking dramatic about your food.”

Niall stands and starts heading towards the kitchen. “Well, the bird didn’t steal _your_ yummy bread.”

“And stop calling cupcakes, yummy bread,” Louis calls after him.

The bird sticks around until the top of the ninth and then must finally have had its fill of baseball and yummy bread because it flies to the open window and back outside.

He doesn’t see the bird the next day, but he does see its owner. He spent the day with Niall on his boat, but no sooner is he in the back door, he hears a knock at the front door. It’s Harry.

“Ehm, hi. I seem to have gotten your mail by mistake today.” Harry holds out a few envelopes as he stares at Louis’ bare chest. Louis remembers he’s only got a pair of Adidas shorts on at the moment. It’s certainly nothing to be embarrassed about, and yet, Harry’s staring is making him feel less clothed than he’d normally feel.

“Thanks, mate,” Louis says as he takes the envelopes.

Harry’s eyes dart to his, and Louis notices their green color. Not blue then. Not like the song his bird sings. No, Harry’s eyes are a very lovely green, flecked with amber. They’re quite mesmerizing really. Louis shakes his head a bit as if to brush off any lingering spell Harry’s eyes are casting. It seems to have the same effect on Harry who quickly takes his leave.

About a week passes without a visit from the bird. He does see his neighbor on an almost daily basis. Nearly every time he goes for a run, Harry seems to be out gardening. They exchange hellos and wave, but that’s about all. Louis is a teensy bit glad not to have to be too close to Harry. It had thrown him off a little when he’d shown up on his doorstep. He may have had a few dreams featuring Harry’s enigmatic gaze after that.

He finds the bird in the rocks again.

“I’m glad someone likes the rocks anyway,” Louis says to it before heading inside.

A few minutes later, he hears that familiar tapping sound at his window. When he opens it, the bird flies in and perches on his coffee table.

“Yummy bread,” it says.

“Yummy bread?” Louis suddenly remembers the bird eating Niall’s cupcake. “You want a cupcake? You’ve come to steal food from me?”

“Yummy bread,” it repeats.

“Listen, you. I have no idea if you’re supposed to be eating cupcakes. You’re a bird. Aren’t you supposed to eat bird seed or summat?”

“Yummy bread.”

Louis stares at it for a moment. “Fine. I’ll look it up and see if birds are supposed to eat cupcakes. You know, you’re not a pigeon or whatever. Always see them kinda birds eating whatever’s about, but you look like a proper posh bird.”

Louis grabs his phone and instantly feels like an idiot. What’s he supposed to google anyway? He ends up typing in “talking birds.” The first thing listed is a wikipedia article that begins with a bulleted list of talking birds: Amazon Parrots, African Grey Parrot, cockatoos, parakeets.

African Grey Parrot. He glances over at the bird. Who knew there were grey parrots? He enters in “African Grey Parrot.” A load of photos that look just like this bird pop up.

“Well, these look just like you!” Louis says to the bird. He briefly skims over the google results. _The African Grey Parrot is famous for its intelligence and its ability to mimic human speech._ Huh. That’s definitely this bird. He adds in “what do they eat” into the search terms.

“Ah, you’re really only supposed to be eating a lot of fruits and vegetables and nuts.”

“No flags, thank god,” the parrot says.

“No flags? What are you on about, Grey Parrot?” Louis asks.

“Obnoxious people with big flags.”

“Oh, ho. So more of your owner’s opinions, I see. He doesn’t like flags, huh? I’m not much of a flag person myself, but you know there _is_ one flag I would consider owning. Hmmmm.”

Louis begins thinking about flags, and if it’s worth the trouble. For a prank, it probably is.

“Yummy bread.”

“Oh right. The cupcakes.” Louis is so wrapped up in the idea of a flag now that he just automatically goes and gets a cupcake and sets it down next to the bird as he searches for a particular flag on his phone.

The flag comes in the mail about a week later. Louis is nearly giddy with delight that he may be able to fly it today. He’s got the stand connected to the front of the house. Now all he needs is for the Cubs to win.

A few of his friends show up to watch the game, and as soon as the walk off home run is hit, Louis races outside to hoist his flag, a giant blue ‘W’ on a white background, signifying a Cubs win. Just as he’s admiring it, someone else comes along to--admire.

Harry has left his Prius sitting in the driveway between their houses, and now, he’s come out and is standing beside it, looking at Louis’ giant flag with a look of astonishment on his face. Louis watches as Harry seemingly unable to stop himself, walks over in front of Louis’ house, looking at the offending flag in horror, his mouth hanging open.

This is when Louis notices that Harry appears to be wearing skin tight yoga pants and a long, low cut tank top.

“Like my new flag? The Cubs just won!” Louis says with a smug grin. “Looks great, doesn’t it?”

Harry seems to have inadvertently walked up the stairs to stand even closer to the flag. He flushes but says nothing. He doesn’t seem to notice that Louis is checking out the fit of his yoga pants over those long legs. Louis definitely likes what he sees. Harry seems to only be interested in this monstrously large flag. Harry backs down the steps and walks slowly back to his car never having said a word.

The next day he returns from the grocery store to find Harry lying in wait for him in his backyard. This time it's about the trees apparently.

"Hello. Just wondering what your thoughts were concerning these trees." 

Harry stares at them critically as if he expects Louis to reply knowledgeably about some damn trees that Louis hasn't given two fucks about before now. 

"Uh, I think they're--trees," Louis says, glancing at them. "I think this is the first time I've thought about them."

Harry frowns. "They're Bradford Pear trees. They are notoriously difficult trees, but this is the time of year that you can trim them. So you should most certainly do that. They're a spring blossoming tree, so now that the blooms are done, it's time for trimming."

"These trees bloom?"

Harry sighs. "Yes. They do. The blossoms are quite pretty, but have a bit of an--odor to them."

"You're telling me these trees make flowers that stink?"

"Well, yes, but I--"

Louis shrugs. "I'll just cut them down then."

Harry's mouth falls open. "Excuse me? You're going to cut them down just because of that?"

"Yep."

"Well, obviously my advice is unwelcome," Harry says tersely as he begins marching back to his house, but before he makes it there, he whirls around, pointing towards the trees. "If you're going to cut those trees down, it should be for the right reasons."

Louis shakes his head. This man is driving him mad. No wonder the last people who lived here moved away. "Okay, what are the right reasons?"

"They're structurally weak, they keep grass from growing, they get too big, and they cross pollinate with other species."

"Sounds like I should cut them down," Louis says with a smirk as Harry stiffens a bit before stomping up his back steps and into his house.

 

/// JULY ///

When Harry returns from the farmer’s market the following Saturday, he can already hear Louis’ cursing as he steps out of the car. He gathers up his bags of produce and other finds from the market and glances over at Louis’ backyard as he makes his way to his own back door. Louis appears to be having trouble starting his charcoal grill. There’s a lot of loud noises and rude words coming from his back patio, but that seems to be about it. Harry eyes him warily as he heads into the house.

In the few moments that pass between Harry opening the door from the porch to the house, Louis lets out a string of swears apparently loudly enough for Darcy to hear him.

“Louis, Louis, Louis,” Darcy says. And then, she apparently decides to use Louis’ foul language and in Louis’ accented voice no less. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fuck this piece of shit. Fuck!”

He doesn’t need Darcy picking up bad habits. Harry marches back outside. “Do you mind not cursing so loudly that I can hear you inside my house?”

“Oh. Sorry, mate.” Louis at least has the grace to look a big embarrassed. “I’m having a bit of trouble with the grill. I haven’t really used one like this before.”

Harry sighs and walks over to assess the problem. “I think the vent may not be open all the way for one thing.”

He squats down and carefully opens the vent fully and then takes a look at the charcoal briquettes piled inside. “It usually works well in a pyramid shape, and then just put enough lighter fluid so that they look a bit shiny when you’re through.”

“Lighter fluid?”

Harry frowns. He’s fairly certain he knows the answer to this question, but he asks it anyway. “Yes. Do you have any?”

Louis gives him a sickly smile. “No. Um, would you happen to have any I could borrow?”

“Sure.” He walks back into his garage where his own grill is kept very neatly in the corner with tools and equipment for it hanging on the wall just above it.

He returns to Louis with a small box of lighter fluid and tries to hand it to him, but Louis holds up his hands in surrender. “Oh. No, you go ahead.”

Harry dutifully prepares the charcoal and then picks up the box of matches Louis has dropped to the ground. He lights the grill and then looks back at Louis. “You need to wait about fifteen minutes for it to be hot enough to cook on.”

Louis shoots him a dazzling smile that makes Harry’s heart thump a bit funny. “Thanks, Harry! You know I’m having the lads over to watch the Cubs game. Would you like to join us for some hamburgers and hot dogs?”

Harry crinkles up his nose. “No, thank you. I don’t eat meat.”

Louis looks at him like he’s got two heads.

“You don’t eat meat.” Louis repeats. “What do you eat then?”

Harry nearly laughs at the horror in Louis’ voice. “Well, Louis, there are many other types of food besides meat and many other ways of getting protein. Legumes, nuts, plant proteins, beans--”

“No, no! Never mind! Stop!” Louis covers his ears dramatically.  “Please, I can’t listen to this madness!”

Harry lets a small smile cross his lips.

“I have something for you. Just a second,” he says, and he walks back into his house.

Darcy makes some clicking noises at him as he rummages through one of his bags until he finds an heirloom tomato. He washes it quickly along with some Wasabi Arugula. He puts it all on a plate and heads back over to Louis’.

He hands him the plate with a smile. “To go with all your meat. The lettuce is actually a special blend that’s a little spicy. I thought it might pair well with your burgers.”

Louis looks at the vegetables as though they were absolutely foreign to him.

“You want me to put vegetables on my meat?” Louis shakes his head playfully. “Oh, Harry, no.”

“Oh, Harry, yes.” Hmmm. That didn’t sound quite right. He clears his throat. “Um, you should at least eat some vegetables as toppings.”

Louis is looking at him with a wide-eyed stare again. “Will do, Harry. Ehm, thanks.”

Harry waves him off. “No problem.”

///

For the last few weeks, Louis has been drinking his morning tea on his front porch after his morning run. It’s still cool enough in the morning to sit on the front steps and thumb through his phone as he sips his tea. Maybe he should look into getting a porch swing. Or at least a chair. He finds that he’s inadvertently timed his morning tea to be at a time when his fit neighbor seems to always leave his house and walk off in the direction of the university. Harry always wears a backpack and clutches a beaten up brown journal in his hand. Most days, he has his long hair drawn up into a neat bun.

The first few times it happened, Harry didn’t notice him sat there on the steps. By the third time, Harry must have caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye because he turns back and waves hello, and from that point forward he always turns to see if Louis is there. He wonders if Harry is teaching a summer class and what the class might be. Not that he really cares, he’s just bored and wondering as he watches Harry walk away from him each morning. It’s really the only time he catches a glimpse of Harry except on weekends when their schedules are more open. It may be summer and not soccer season, but that doesn’t mean Louis doesn’t have plenty of duties to fulfill especially since he’s new to the school.

He spends one afternoon organizing and making calls for a future fundraising event, and when he returns home, it’s to find the parrot sitting in his rock filled planter again.

“Nice rocks.”

“You really do like these rocks, don’t you? Probably because your owner hates them. He won’t let you have rocks, will he?” Louis clicks his tongue in sympathy as he makes his way to the door.

“Long grass.”

“What?” He asks as he looks back at the parrot.

“Long grass. Long, long grass.”

Louis looks at his yard with a sigh. The grass _is_ a little long right now.

“I suppose _someone_ has been complaining about me again,” he says to the parrot.

“Grass is too long.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.” Louis shakes his head and mentally makes a note to rearrange a few things for tomorrow, so he has time to mow the grass.

The next day, Louis finds himself in the midday heat of a July day mowing the damn lawn. It’s not a very large yard, but it’s so hot out today that he’s dripping with sweat within the first few minutes. Just as he finishes the front yard and turns the motor off, he strips off his shirt and wipes his brow with it. He’s about to move on to the backyard, when he hears an oddly pitched noise. He turns and sees Harry frozen in place, watching him from the driveway separating their front yards, his mouth hanging open a bit. Louis tries to resist the urge to smirk at this response.

“Hi, Harry. Whatcha doing?” Louis asks. His voice seems to snap Harry out of whatever daze he was in.

Harry looks a bit flushed, and Louis wonders if it’s from the heat or something else. “Oh, um, hello. I was just--I’m just--was teaching.”

“A summer course?” Louis asks. Harry seems to be staring at the tattoo that runs across his chest.

“Yeah.”

“What’s the course?”

“Hmm? What?” Harry asks. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“I asked what class you were teaching.”

“Oh. Uh, Theater and Politics. One of my favorites to teach really.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Yes, I decided to keep busy this summer.” Harry makes a gesture at him. “Not everyone does well with months off work in the summer.”

Louis’ jaw clenches. People always assume his job is so easy and not time consuming. “My job doesn’t stop in the summer, so I wouldn’t know.”

With that, he pulls the starter cord to the lawnmower, bringing it back to roaring life as he marches it into his back yard.

///

Harry flings open his front door and nearly slams it behind him in his haste to be inside the house. He can feel his face heated with embarrassment and something more that churns in his gut. He leans back against the door, trying to stem the tide of thoughts that race through his mind. He runs through the first ones, that Louis seemed annoyed with his assumption about his job and the embarrassment of being caught staring and fumbling for words at the sight of Louis shirtless. His face burns anew at these thoughts, but they lead to that last thought, the one his body wants him to think about.

That thought is the one that has Harry running his palm over his growing erection. He’s not even sure how long he stood there staring before Louis turned off the lawnmower and startled that humiliating noise out of Harry’s mouth. Even now, it feels worth it. Worth embarrassing himself to see Louis take off his shirt, his muscles gleaming with sweat. And dear god, that tattoo. The ink that runs across Louis’ chest makes Harry want to lick every inch of it. Fuck, that tattoo is hot. And that smirk that crossed his face as if he knew every dirty thought running through Harry’s mind? He lets out a whimper at that and slips his hand inside his pants.

He thinks about going upstairs to his bedroom to really savor this fantasy image of Louis that’s been brought to life, but he can’t even make himself walk up the stairs. He quickly unbuttons his pants and draws out his cock, hard and already leaking. He lets a loud moan escape his lips as he draws his thumb over the tip and then loosely grasps himself as he replays the moment of Louis wiping sweat from his body with his shirt. He wants Louis to pin him down by his strong, muscled thighs. He lets himself picture it. Louis in his bed, telling him he wants it, too. Telling him how good it feels. He wants to see Louis’ face as Harry takes him in his mouth. Will his face soften or will his edges sharpen? These are questions Harry would very much like to know the answers to. As he imagines what it would feel like to sink down onto Louis’ cock, Harry pumps  his hand more and more quickly. The friction nearly painful, the desperation to come overwhelming him. He comes calling out Louis’ name and then slumps to the floor, panting.

He sits for a minute in a bit of shock. This is not how Harry masturbates. He usually just does it in the shower where it can all be washed away quickly, no mess. Or if he’s in the right mood, he’ll make a nice production out of it. Some nice toys, lube, candles, some erotic fiction--that sort of thing. Never does he jerk off against his front door because he can’t even make it up the stairs.

He stands up and heads into the kitchen to wash his hands and get a drink of water. As soon as he enters though, he hears Darcy.

“Ohhhhh, mmmmmmm, fuck, oh, oh, Louis.”

Harry freezes. “Oh my god.”

“Uhhh, uhhhh, mmmmm, Louis, yes.”

He starts shushing her as if that will help. Instead she just moans more loudly. Well, his humiliation is complete now. His bird has now heard him jack off and is imitating him. Why did he think having an intelligent bird around would be nice? At least a dog wouldn’t throw this in his face.

“Darcy. No. Please stop. Please,” he begs. “Why must Louis be such an unfairly hot, obnoxious soccer hooligan?”

He washes up before running upstairs, too embarrassed to even look his bird in the eye.

///

The day after his latest encounter with Harry, Louis still finds himself out on the front porch at the correct time to watch Harry walk to work. It’s just a convenient time for him to have his tea. At least, this is what he tells himself. Part of him knows that it isn’t the entire reason for being out here, even if he is annoyed that Harry seems to think his job is a cake walk. He becomes so wrapped up in thoughts about the fundraising calls he still needs to make and about how he and Niall need to finalize their schedule for the soccer clinic they’re running next week that he nearly misses when Harry walks out his front door. Harry doesn’t turn and say hello though.

Louis frowns. Harry _always_ waves and says hello. Did he not see him sitting here?

“Hi, Harry!” Louis calls out before he can think about why.

Harry freezes, and then, slowly turns towards Louis. He smiles an odd, forced smile at Louis. Is he blushing? Why is Harry blushing?

“Hello,” Harry replies, his voice even deeper than normal.

Usually, Harry waves and says hello all while walking away, but now, he’s stood awkwardly facing him.

Louis feels like he should say something to possibly make this all less strange. “Uh, have a good day at work.”

This seems to be enough to break the odd tension, and Harry abruptly turns and waves and heads off quickly towards the university. Louis stays on his porch watching Harry’s retreating figure and wondering what in the hell that was all about.

When Louis returns home many hours later after a long afternoon of planning fundraisers and clinics, he finds the bird in his rocks again.

He walks over to the parrot and shakes his head. “What is it with you and these rocks? You know your owner hates these rocks, but I suppose you’re a contrary one, aren’t you?”

“Louuuuiiiiis,” the bird moans.

Louis stares down at it. That is _not_ how the bird usually says his name. He backs away and briskly walks back into his house. Did he just imagine the bird moaning his name? What has his life come to anyway?

He tries to shake off the weirdness of it and fixes himself dinner. He sighs and makes himself a cheese toastie. He should have just picked something up to eat on the way home. He settles into his couch and turns on ESPN as he munches his sandwich when he hears the tell tale sound of pecking at his window. He tries to ignore it, but the bird is nothing if not persistent. After about five minutes, he gives in.

“Fine, _fine_! You can come in, but I’m trying to relax, okay?”

“Okay,” the bird answers back.

Louis wonders not for the first time just how smart this bird is. It seems uncommonly clever. He’ll have to look up more about it sometime. He watches to the end of SportsCenter and realizes how quiet the bird is tonight.

“So what’s your name?” Louis asks. “Do you know how to tell me your name?”

“Darcy,” the parrot answers.

Well, that’s a name. He supposes this Darcy probably does know her own name.

“Okay, well, Darcy, would you like something to eat? I kind of know what you’re supposed to eat now.”

“Banana.” Darcy answers.

“Um, I think I do have a banana actually.” Louis stands up and clears his tray and cuts up a banana into a small bowl that he brings back into the living room for Darcy. “Here.”

“Yummy banana,” Darcy says before she begins picking at it.

“I’m actually not a huge fan of bananas, so you go right on ahead with that.” He slips his phone out of his pocket and sits back down on the couch to look up more about African grey parrots, when he’s interrupted by Darcy.

“Louuuuis,” Darcy moans. “Mmmmmm, ohhhh, Louis.”

Okay, he definitely didn’t imagine Darcy moaning at him. What the fuck? She’s just pecking away at the banana and moaning his name in Harry’s voice. God, this is the weirdest shit ever.

And then, Darcy looks him straight in the eye and says, “Why must Louis be such an unfairly hot, obnoxious, soccer hooligan?”

Louis’ jaw drops open.

“So that’s what Harry thinks of me, eh? He thinks I’m hot. Fuck.” Louis’ mind reels with this information. He frowns. “Of course, he also thinks I’m obnoxious.”

Darcy goes back to eating her banana.

Christ. What’s all the moaning about then? It couldn’t be what he thinks it is--could it? From his seat on the couch, Louis peers out the window in the direction of Harry’s house as though it will provide him with the answers he’s looking for. As soon as Darcy finishes eating banana, she perches on the windowsill and waits to be let back outside. She leaves with one last moan of his name, and Louis slams shut the window.

He trudges upstairs to take a shower and wash away this bizarre day. His mind does not cooperate. Instead, all he can think about is that Harry thinks he’s hot and that Harry’s bird has definitely heard him moan Louis’ name. Not only does his mind stop cooperating, but so does his body. He let’s his mind wander back to the pretty picture Harry made in those tight, revealing yoga pants. His legs so obscenely long and fit.

Louis lowers his head and lets the spray of the shower rain down his back as one hand braces the shower wall and the other wraps itself around his growing erection. He remembers what Harry looks like in a tank top, his biceps bulging. He lets himself imagine Harry holding him up against a wall as he strokes himself slowly. God, it’s been too long since he’s been with someone. That’s why he lets himself imagine Harry carrying to his bedroom and throwing him down onto the bed. It’s why he slides the tip of his finger over his hole as he pumps his fist over his cock. And then, he begins to imagine what it would be like to be with someone like Harry. Someone so particular. Might be nice to be with someone who pays such close attention to detail. Might be nice to take someone apart who holds on so rigidly to some things. Louis begins pumping faster at this thought. Fuck, he’d really like to take Harry apart, piece by persnickety piece. And suddenly, he’s imagining Harry, his hair flowing around his shoulders in waves as he rides Louis’ dick, and that’s what sends Louis over the edge and spilling into his own hand with Harry’s name on his lips.

 

/// AUGUST ///

The windy heat of July has morphed into a hotter, more humid August. The air feels stagnant and a few minutes outside makes Louis’ shirt stick to his back. He’s spent the last week avoiding Harry. He tells himself it’s too damn hot to drink tea on his porch right now, but he knows there’s at least a part of him that just isn’t ready to look him in the eye again. Ever since he realized the physical attraction between them might be mutual, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry. Particularly when he’s alone and his dick is hard.

It’s all a bit confusing is what it is. He’s definitely interested in seeing Harry’s naked, writhing body, and he’s come to understand that Harry possibly thinks about his as well. Then again, he also knows that Harry doesn’t seem to particularly like anything else about him, and that is also mutual. He’ll admit that he finds Harry’s little oddities to be slightly charming though. The man did bake him cookies. Albeit before they’d actually met. And he has inadvertently become quite friendly with Harry’s bird that comes over a few times a week for bananas. Louis has begun to make sure he has a few in the house at all times.

He’ll have less time to think about this now that August is here though. The fall semester will be starting soon, which means his new team will be on campus shortly. While the rest of his summer was spent on clinics and recruiting and fundraising mostly, now he can focus on his real passions. The dedication to plays and drills, making sure his players are in peak physical condition, and of course, the intensity and competition of the games. This is only the beginning. He plans to stay here long term and build a truly competitive team for their conference. He lets the thrill of his plans wash over him for a moment before he finishes his corn flakes.

As it’s Saturday morning, he’s heading out to watch Niall’s club team play. There are a few juniors on the team that are worth watching out for for next year. He walks out his back door, whistling, and thinking about his future domination over their soccer conference. His whistling is joined by another whistled tune. He snaps his head towards the sound and sees Harry walking out his back door, also whistling. It dies on his lips as he meets Louis’ gaze.

“Hi,” Louis says, hoping his smile isn’t too strained.

“Hi,” Harry answers. He waves a hand currently holding a reusable cloth bag. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

As soon as the sentence leaves Harry’s mouth, Louis can see the cringe on his face as though he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Yeah, it’s a bit muggy out here to be drinking my tea on the porch.”

Harry’s face perks up. “Oh, you’re drinking tea? I always assumed it was coffee.”

“Nah, can’t stand that stuff usually.” Louis wrinkles his nose.  “I prefer a cuppa tea over coffee any day.”

“Oh, I make a really fabulous cup of coffee though!” Harry exclaims. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard of bullet coffee, but you blend the coffee up with high quality butter or alternatively you could use a coconut oil. You won’t need any cream in it, and it is just really--”

“Butter? In your coffee?” He asks raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“I know it sounds a bit odd, but I use an organic butter made from the milk of grass fed cows, and I think it really makes a difference.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I suppose you can taste all the grass they’ve been digesting.”

Harry lets out a loud, honking bark of a laugh that startles both of them. Harry immediately slaps a hand over his mouth as if he could stuff it back inside.

The brief moment of levity doesn’t last.

Harry must be trying to think of a change of conversation because he asks, “So when does your soccer season start?”

“In a few weeks actually.” Louis can hear the excitement creep into his own voice.  “Well, the boys will be here for practice and conditioning before the semester begins, but we’ll play a few preseason games, too.”

“So what exactly is it you do when it’s off season then? I know you said your job doesn’t stop in the summer, but it doesn’t seem like there’d be anything to do.”

Louis can feel his ire rise. “Well, Harry. I spend most of my weekends in the spring and summer at high school club tournaments in order to watch for recruitments. Most years, I also help coach a team or two as that’s the best way to determine which players would work well on my college teams. I also run a highly successful clinic each summer with a local coach I’m friends with, which is also useful in recruitment although I admit it’s also quite a lot of fun as well. In the winter I run an indoor soccer clinic for my own team as well as a conditioning schedule. This is all not to mention the fundraisers I organize or the grants that I write to secure proper funding for our boys. Summer is usually the best time for me to organize and plan these events that take place throughout the year. You know, if I want my athletes to get the message that they should be passionate about the game and invest time in it, as coaches we should do the same thing. It’s good to stay sharp with running sessions and learning strategies, developing player relationships--”

Louis runs a hand through his hair and stops abruptly. There’s no way Harry gives a shit about anything he’s just said.

“You asked what I do in the off season. The answer is that I keep working.”

With that, Louis marches through to his garage and throws a bag of practice balls into the back of the truck for Niall’s team to use between games. He hears a throat clearing, and he looks up to see Harry standing awkwardly in the open garage door.

“I didn’t mean to sound dismissive. It’s sort of a bad habit of mine--to sound that way. But ‘Often excusing of faults doth make faults worse by excuses.’ So I don’t want to make an excuse for it if I came off sounding rude.”

Louis smirks. “The quote is: _But often excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.'_ But sure, Harry. I get the meaning behind your Shakespeare quote. That really helps your case for not sounding dismissive.”

Louis gives Harry a sharp wave as he open the door to his truck. He happens to glance at Harry’s face, and he sees something there that he doesn’t expect. Chagrin? Regret? He sighs. He’ll admit he liked it better when he startled a laugh out of him.

He gives Harry a genuine smile. “Bye, Harry. See ya around.”

As he climbs into his truck, he sees Harry is returning his smile with one of his own, one that’s a bit sideways and causes a deep dimple to crease his face. Christ. Who knew a smile and a dimple could make his mind race with obscene thoughts? He drives away with an odd fluttering deep in his stomach. It returns every time he thinks about that smile. During the soccer game, driving home, when he sees a light flick on in Harry’s house as he pulls into his garage, that night as he tries to fall asleep.

When he gets the email about seeing _Hamilton_ in Chicago with Harry’s summer class, he immediately signs up. He has his reasons.

///

Harry walks into his last class of the summer semester with a huge grin on his face. The class is buzzing with excitement over the culminating event of their class. Harry is pretty proud of himself for organizing this.

“Professor Styles, does the bus leave on Saturday at nine a.m.? Or is that just when we should arrive?” One of his students asks as he fully enters the classroom.

“The bus is leaving at eight.” He raises his voice to be heard over the chatter. “So you’ll all need to be punctual, please. I’d hate to leave anyone behind.”

The class quiets down. This has hands down become his favorite course to teach. Theater and politics have such a close and controversial relationship. It’s been very rewarding to have his students so engaged in winnowing out the significance of the relationship and to see them finding the similarities and differences of the relationship in today’s world versus various times in the past. And now, to be able to watch it in action in an incredible modern play, he knows his students won’t soon be forgetting this class. But first, they have a final to take.

On Saturday morning, Harry arrives quite early to the large bus they’ve rented. He’s had Cynthia, the English department’s secretary, send out an email to all staff and all students taking a summer course inviting them to come along as a way to offset the cost of the bus, so now he’s got a clipboard with a checklist Cynthia emailed him last night of all those attending. Harry knew he was taking a gamble arranging to have that many tickets set aside for them, but according to this list, his gamble has paid off. It looks like nearly every seat will be filled.

He climbs aboard and sets his backpack on a seat in the first row just behind the bus driver and then climbs back down to await the students and faculty who will soon be arriving. A few faculty members from the history department arrive first, and then a few of his students. When he marks off “Addy Thomas,” his pen scratches across the page at the sight of the name just below it. _Louis Tomlinson_. What the hell? Louis is coming? His head snaps up to look through the people just arriving in the parking lot. He suddenly realizes that doesn’t make sense as Louis would be coming from the direction of their neighborhood, which would be behind--

“Well, well, well. What a coincidence meeting you here.”

Harry’s whirls around to see Louis standing just behind him. The first thing that registers in his mind is that Louis looks unbelievably hot in tight black jeans and a white t shirt that shows off the gorgeous color of his skin after a summer spent outdoors. But the first thing that comes out of his mouth is unfortunately much different.

“It’s my class,” Harry answers abruptly. “I mean, I arranged the trip.”

“Yeah, I caught onto that, Professor Styles,” Louis responds. “Best check me off on your list. Looks like you had a bit of an accident with your pen. Bit messy.”

With a grin, Louis boards the bus. Louis calling him Professor Styles is making his head spin a bit.

Harry hastily marks him off the list and moves on to the next few people to arrive. As the last person gets checked off, Harry follows her onto the bus, pleased to only be about five minutes behind schedule especially considering he’s left them a cushion of about fifteen minutes. He lets the bus driver know that they’re ready, and as he climbs the last step into the bus, he looks directly into a pair of sparkling blue eyes that take his breath away for a brief moment. Louis is sitting right next to his backpack. Scratch that, it appears Louis has moved his backpack away from the window seat and stuffed it on the aisle seat.

“You took my seat,” Harry says, stating the obvious.

“Yes, well, I figured you’d rather have me sit here and not get motion sickness rather than have me puke on your shoes.”

Harry gathers his bag and plops down into the seat next to him. “Um, yes. It’s fine. I actually don’t mind the aisle seat anyway.”

“I didn’t want to ask to take someone else’s seat that I didn’t know, and I recognized your bag. I actually do hope you don’t mind though.”

“You recognize my bag?” Oh, that probably wasn’t the right thing to focus on. Focus, Styles. “Er, I really don’t mind. I can sort of stretch my legs out a bit in the aisle now.”

Louis stares at his legs and then clears his throat.

“Yes, your legs are--” Louis shifts in his seat a bit. “Quite long.”

Harry’s imagination immediately flashes him a mental image of his legs wrapped around Louis’ as he straddles him. Jesus. Hopefully, these tight jeans will hold his dick down a bit. Okay, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it.

“What are you thinking?” Louis asks.

“What?” Oh shit.

“You look like you’re thinking about something. I just wondered what it was.”

“Nothing,” he says quickly.

“Well, now I know it was _something_. Now, I’ll just have to assume it was something inappropriate.” Louis leans back in his seat, smirking.

Harry can feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, and it’s definitely not from the warm day. How in the hell has this happened already?

“Oh my god. Are you blushing?” Louis asks, surprise laced through his voice. He throws his head back to laugh, and his eyes crinkle in the corners until they’re reduced to slits. It’s probably the greatest thing Harry’s ever seen.

“Can’t believe I caught you thinking something naughty!” Louis waves a finger at him. “Tsk, tsk, Professor. There are students around!”

“Would you shut up please?” Harry glances around a little anxiously. Fine, he’s probably not that anxious someone will overhear, but he needs to change the subject.

Louis holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I won’t keep asking about your improper fantasies even though you’re sitting right next to me. A bit rude not to share.”

Louis’s teasing smile brightens the recesses of Harry’s heart in such an unexpected way that he doesn’t quite know what to say, but he does know that he wants Louis to keep talking to him. If he’s honest, he’s wanted that for a while, but he just keeps managing to put his foot in his mouth somehow.

“Um, not really the appropriate setting for talking about fantasies,” he finally says. He barrels on though to stop that train of thought. “So what made you come today?”

Louis raises an eyebrow at the question, and Harry’s face burns anew. He covers his eyes with one hand. “Oh god. You know what I meant. What interested you about the play we’re going to see?”

Louis leans his head back against the seat and turns just his head to meet Harry’s eyes. “Are you wanting to know more about me, Professor Styles?”

Harry swallows. There’s really something about the way he says his name that goes straight to Harry’s dick. He tries to ignore that in favor of actually talking to the man. “Yes, I would, Coach Tomlinson.”

Louis waggles his eyebrows at the title. “Well, ever since I was a boy I’ve been quite interested in drama. I acted in quite a few plays growing up, even had a small role in a television series, but eventually something had to give. And there really wasn’t any question about what my first love is and has always been. So I gave up acting to pursue football. Well, soccer, I guess I should say. I’ve actually gotten used to calling it soccer, most times.”

“Do you miss it? The acting, I mean?”

“Yeah, I do actually. My mum was a bit disappointed to be honest. She quite liked seeing me act, but she knew my passion was soccer and working with kids and now college kids as well. I still coach club ball, and when I first finished university I coached high school soccer.”

“Your mom? Does she still live in the U.K.?”

“Yeah, she does. The whole rest of my family is still there. That’s the hardest part about being far from where I grew up, you know. Missing them. I try to get back as often as I can. And they come see me as well. My sisters and brother love to come visit. And there’s always Skype.”

Harry watches how soft Louis’ face grows as he speaks about his family. “Sounds like you’re really close with them.”

“Yeah, I am. It’s hard to be away from them, but this is my home now. I couldn’t pass up the opportunities I’ve had here, yeah? What about you, Harry? Are you from the Midwest?”

Harry talks about his family and growing up a few towns over from the university. He talks about his mom who lives nearby and who he sees quite regularly and his sister out in California who he loves to pieces but doesn’t see often enough. Louis thinks he’s lucky to be living so close to his mom, and Harry can see how lucky it is when he thinks about it, too. The three hours it takes to get to Chicago fly by as they talk about their families and how they ended up at Augustus University.

When they arrive at the theatre, the marbled floors beckon them forward. Harry _happens_ to have a seat next to Louis, and Louis’ leg brushes against his as they sit back into the deep red velvet seats. A shiver of sensation dances up Harry’s leg from the touch. He tries instead to concentrate on the gilded loveliness of the theatre, but he isn’t very successful at taking his mind off the man next to him. Once the play begins, there’s no question it holds their attention, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t nudge each other and share their enjoyment of it.

After the play, there’s time for everyone to find dinner. Most everyone heads off to find deep dish pizza, leaving Harry to stand outside the theatre. He knows Louis is standing behind him, waiting. He’s about to turn around when one of his students approaches.

“Professor Styles?”

“Yes, Mac?”

“I just wanted to thank you for all this. I know you helped pay for my ticket and for a few others who didn’t have quite enough for it. It was so amazing to be able to come and see this.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, Mac,” Harry replies. “I’m very happy everyone in the class was able to come.”

“You’re a really great teacher, Professor Styles,” Mac continues. “I hope you know how much we all loved your class and how much we appreciate you organizing this trip.”

Mac heads off to join a group headed down the street, leaving Harry with a smile on his face. He gathers a bit of courage and smiles as he turns around to face Louis.

“So Louis, I know a great place to eat nearby. Would you like to join me?”

“Is it pizza?” Louis asks hopefully.

There’s a reason Harry didn’t head off with the others to go get pizza, and it wasn’t because he doesn’t like pizza. He wants to go somewhere with Louis without everyone else around.

“Well, no. But they do have great food, and we can sit at the bar. I think one of my friends from college is bartending there tonight. He usually does on the weekends.”

Harry gestures in the direction of the lake, and Louis steps up beside him and lets him lead the way towards the upscale pub his friend Liam works at.

“What happened that your college friend has to work at a bar with his college degree?”

Harry laughs. “Now, who’s making assumptions? Liam went back to grad school. Bartending in Chicago is a very lucrative part time job. Particularly if you look like Liam.”

Louis makes an odd face, and Harry wonders what that look is supposed to mean. He decides not to comment on it as they walk the few blocks that take them to Michigan Avenue. Harry is relieved to see it’s not too busy this early in the evening, and he leads Louis to the bar, his hand resting on Louis’ lower back.

They’ve barely made it to the bar when Liam notices them and immediately rushes over to grip Harry in a bear hug that nearly knocks him off his feet.

“Harry! What the hell, man? You didn’t tell me you were in town!”

“Hey, Li. Well, I knew I’d be around, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop by so I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, I’m glad you did!” Liam glances at Louis, one eyebrow raised to the ceiling. “You been holding out on the group chat, Styles? Who do we have here?”

Harry can feel the heat rise in his cheeks, and he’s sure he’s revealing more than he intends.

“Uh, this is my--” Harry honestly has no idea how to end that sentence. Neighbor? Colleague? Surprising man he’d like to get to know better? Hot man he’d like to see naked in his bed?“--Louis.”

“ _Your_ Louis?” Liam repeats, a delighted grin on his face.

“What? No! Uh, not _my_ Louis, but like _a_ Louis. That I know. From work. And he lives in my neighborhood,” he says quickly. Fuck, he can feel his cheeks burning red.

Louis holds out a hand to shake with Liam. “Hi, I’m Harry’s next door neighbor. I tagged along on a trip with his students to see _Hamilton_.”

Liam still looks delighted. “Mmhmm. Harry here never brings anyone around. And he hasn’t been on a date that I’ve heard about it in--God, how long’s it been Harry?--probably nearly a--”

Harry claps a hand over Liam’s mouth. “We’re just here to eat and possibly have a drink, and then, we’re getting on a bus with my students and a bunch of faculty members.”

Liam lets out a laugh as he walks back behind the bar. “Well, you can both keep saying there’s nothing going on, but that’s not what it looked like when you walked in here.”

They look at each other, wide eyed, and Harry’s not sure what to say to that. “Uh, why don’t we sit down and take a look at the menu?”

He begins to usher Louis to a stool, but then snatches his hand back from touching Louis’ back again. Could he be any more obvious? Fuck.

Harry catches himself looking over more than the menu as they wait for Liam to take their order. The way Louis’ long eyelashes brush against his cheek, the way he licks his lips after he sips his beer, the sharp angles of his face creating shadows Harry longs to touch.

Harry is captivated. He’s beginning to wonder if all the things that annoyed him once about Louis were more of a defense mechanism, designed to help him keep his distance from someone so intriguing. Liam is right. It’s been a long while since Harry felt up to dating someone, but he suddenly feels ready now.

“So Harry--” Louis interrupts his train of thought. “How the hell did you get _Hamilton_ tickets for a whole bus load of people? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, well, there’s a Nederlander who is an old college friend of mine. They’re the ones who own the theatre.” Harry shrugs with a small smile on his face. “I called in a few favors.”

“Well, that is damn impressive, Professor Styles.”

“I’ve got moves you’ve never seen, Coach Tomlinson.”

Louis’ eyes open more widely at that.

Suddenly, Liam’s face shows up between them. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” he says with a smirk. “But I can take your order now if you’d like.”

Their conversations flow across the bar as they eat their food. They talk about the play, they talk about their jobs, they talk a little more about their families and friends. When Liam comes with the bill, Harry tries to insist on paying.

Louis looks at him strangely. “Harry, you don’t have to pay for my dinner. It’s not a d--it’s not necessary. Really.”

They leave Liam with heartfelt goodbyes as they make their way back to the bus. Once they’re on the interstate on their way back to campus, the darkness provides a sense of intimacy that wasn’t there before, and Harry finds himself saying things he perhaps wouldn’t say in the light. They find the similarities between them. They find the small things they both enjoy about a humid, Midwestern summer. They find they both like to drive The Great River Road north along the Mississippi to admire the vibrant colors painting the trees in the fall. They find they both eat ice cream in the winter. They find they both go to opening day at the zoo each spring and ride the train. It _is_ the best part after all.

When they arrive back at campus, Harry sees everyone off the bus and to their respective rides home. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Louis hanging back, waiting for him. When everyone is safely away, he turns towards Louis, his eyes gleaming from the light of the street lamps.

They don’t say anything, just start off in the direction of their neighborhood. Harry’s fingertips tingle as they walk nearly close enough to touch. There’s such a small distance between them that if he just reached out, he could brush them against Louis,’ could tangle them together as they walked down the dimly lit sidewalks.

He’s been changing his mind about Louis for a while, and today has cemented that he would very much like to take Louis on real dates and invite Louis in for a drink and let Louis into his bed to take him apart a piece at a time. He’s glad for the darkness that is surely hiding his embarrassment at having these fantasies as he walks alongside the person starring in them.

They reach Harry’s house first, and they stand at the path leading to his door, staring at one another. Harry wills him to say something, anything, to extend their time together. He doesn’t want the connection of this day between them to end, and he’s scared it will somehow be gone tomorrow. The words to make Louis stay stick in his throat.

Louis offers him what he thinks is a hopeful smile. “Good night, Harry,” his voice raspy, sending sparks creeping up Harry’s spine.

He’s surprised at how deep his voice sounds as he replies, “Good night, Lou.”

He hadn’t meant to call him by a nickname. They hadn’t discussed it. He doesn’t even know if Louis ever goes by ‘Lou,’ but when he meets Louis’ eyes, nothing seems amiss. Louis hesitates a moment as if he’s gearing himself up to do--something. Louis reaches out a hand and trails his fingers lightly down Harry’s arm until he reaches his hand. He clasps it, and says, “I really liked talking to you today. We should do that again.”

Harry’s voice seems to be trapped in his throat and he frantically nods his head in agreement. That seemingly harmless touch has sent sensation straight to Harry’s cock, and he knows he’s got to get inside his house before it becomes more noticeable. Harry smiles and quickly turns towards his house and briskly walks up the front porch steps. He offers Louis a wave before he fumbles the door open and finds himself safely inside. He leans back against the door with his eyes closed. Louis wants to see him again. He _thinks_ Louis maybe just asked him on a date.

He hears some soft clicking noises in the kitchen and walks over to Darcy’s cage. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He asks her. He feels slightly guilty that she hasn’t been out of her cage all day. “Okay, I’ll let you out for a bit. You can fly around a bit in here while I take a long shower. Probably a very long shower. I should have asked him to come in and fuck me.”

Darcy cocks her head sideways. “Oh my god, why am I saying these things out loud to my bird? Sorry, Darcy. I should have just left it at ‘I should have asked him to come in.’” Harry lets her out and heads upstairs to take a cleansing shower. Maybe it will help cleanse his thoughts as well.

///

Louis walks into his house, his head in the clouds. He thinks he may have just asked Harry out on a date, and he thinks Harry’s nodding meant he actually _does_ want to go on a date with him. He walks automatically towards the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea and puts a kettle on the stove. Fuck the tea. What he really wants is to go touch himself while he thinks about Harry. Harry’s long, gorgeous legs wrapped around him. Harry’s perfect, pink lips wrapped around him. Harry’s large hands wrapped around him. Really, any part of Harry wrapped around him sounds pretty great. He flicks the knob on the stove to off. He’s about to race off to his bedroom when he hears an all too familiar tapping at his window.

“Darcy?” He walks over and yes, Darcy is out there. Damn it. “Go on home, Darcy!”

She keeps tapping. She’s looking at him as though he’s being stupid. He’s not sure how she does that. With a sigh, he opens the window and screen and lets her inside.

“What are you doing out here at night? Does Harry know you’re here? No, of course, not. What am I even saying?”

“Banana.”

Louis frowns. “So you’ve just come for bananas have you? Fine. But then you have to go straight home after that. I have--things to do.”

She sits perched on the raised edge of his coffee table as he fetches her a banana from the kitchen. He brings back the banana in a small bowl and watches as she begins taking nibbles of it.

“I should have asked him to come in,” Darcy says. It’s so unnerving sometimes to hear the things she says in Harry’s voice.

“Who should have come in?” Louis asks.

“I should have asked him to come in and fuck me.”

Louis’ mouth hangs open in shock. “What?”

“I should have asked him to come in and fuck me.”

“Oh my god. Did--er, did Harry--say that tonight, Darcy? Oh god. Don’t answer that. Not that you would answer that. Just--no, I shouldn’t be trying to gather information from a pet bird. What the hell am I doing?”

“Why am I saying these things out loud to my bird?” Darcy says.

Okay, he’s got to get Darcy out of his house, so he can go jack off to the thought of Harry wanting him back. When Darcy gets bored of her banana, she makes some of her little clicking noises at him.

“Uh, so you should probably go home now.” He opens the window and gestures for her to leave. She cocks her head sideways, and Louis realizes he knows this look of hers by now. It’s her stubborn look.

“Darcy.  Come on now. Be reasonable. Harry might be looking for you! He’s probably wondering where you are right now!” She just stares at him.

“Fuck. I should have told Harry you’ve been coming to see me.” All he wants to do is go think about Harry in peace, but no, his damn bird won’t go home.

“Okay, Darcy. You have to go home now.” Nothing.

He’s never really tried to touch Darcy before, but he examines her feet and she appears to have very sharp nails. Okay, so he’s not going to offer up his arm or finger. Got it. He looks around his living room for a perch he can actually move around and doesn’t see anything suitable. Suddenly, he realizes he’s got plenty of perches for a bird. He’s got trees, and the trees have branches and sticks. He races out the back door and snaps off a stick that he thinks will work from his small apple tree.

He comes back in and shows Darcy the perch. He approaches her cautiously and holds it out to her over the surface of the table in case she falls, but she doesn’t. She hops right onto the branch. She’s surprisingly light. He carefully walks her out the front door, across their front yards, and up the front steps and onto Harry’s porch. He takes a deep breath and knocks at the door.

It takes a while for Harry to come to the door. He is just about to knock again when the front door is flung open to reveal Harry with his hair wet from a shower, clothed only in a pair of very low riding, grey sweatpants. Louis’ mouth goes dry at the sight of Harry’s sculpted abs and the display of tattooed skin.

“Louis? DARCY?”

“Hi, Harry. Um, your bird wouldn’t leave my house tonight, so I’ve brought her back for you. She’s been coming over all summer, but for whatever reason tonight she wouldn’t leave.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I--didn’t even know she could get out of my house. Darcy! You naughty bird!” Harry scolds her as he takes the perch from Louis. “Really, I’m so sorry about Darcy making a nuisance of herself. Uh, would you like to come in? I could make you a cup of tea.”

Louis nods as he follows Harry into the house. His first impression is how eclectic it is. There are quite a few bookcases filled with books. There are framed pieces of art and photography hanging on the walls, and what appears to be a collection of small lanterns atop the mantle of the fireplace. Upon closer inspection, the bookcases hold not only books, but small handpainted boxes and tiny figurines of birds. There are also photos in small frames with women that look a lot like Harry. They beckon to him to take a closer look, but he instead follows Harry into the kitchen where Harry safely escorts Darcy back to her cage.

Harry puts on the kettle and stands in front of it. Tension begins to weave it’s way through the room. Louis leans against the small table and stares at the taut muscles of Harry’s shoulders. He holds his fists at his side, willing himself not to walk up behind Harry and kiss a path down his spine. He’s pretty sure he has a way to relieve that tension he sees. When Harry abruptly turns to face him, he doesn’t have time to school his features into something that doesn’t immediately reveal how much he wants Harry in this moment. He was so busy staring that he is just now realizing how hard he’s getting. He tries to adjust himself discreetly, but Harry is watching him, his eyes widening the more he stares back at Louis.

Louis isn’t sure why he says something.

“Harry?” Louis asks hoarsely.

He’s not even sure what he’s asking.

Harry takes a few long strides towards him, crowding him against the table so that Louis has to plant his hands on the surface to keep from falling. He decides to move forwards instead. Their lips collide, and the months of build up have them clinging to each other. Louis’ hands roam the muscles of Harry’s back as Harry threads his long fingers through Louis’ hair. This kiss feels long overdue, and Harry is kissing him like he’s making up for lost time. Louis presses his body back against Harry when the kettle starts whistling.

“Fuck the tea,” he growls against Harry’s lips.

Harry pulls away from him looking confused as if he hadn’t heard the high pitched whistle at all. It must click because he dashes away to quickly push the kettle off the burner. The whistle dies down as Harry stumbles back into the kiss. Harry hoists him up onto the table and moves between his legs without breaking the kiss. Louis can feel Harry’s hard cock pressing up against him through the loose sweatpants, and he brings his hands to Harry’s ass to rut against him.

“Louis,” Harry gasps. “Louis, god you feel so good--”

“You feel so good,” Darcy says from her cage. Then, she makes a few clicking noises for good measure.

They both freeze.

Louis can feel his laughter bubbling up from inside before it breaks free. Harry’s face blushes a pretty shade of pink to match his lips, and he dashes to Darcy’s cage and throws the cover over it. Harry’s smiling though when he turns back to see Louis still laughing. Harry shuts him up with a hard, brief kiss. It leaves Louis a bit dazed.

“Come on.” Harry takes him by the hand and starts quickly leading him towards the stairs. Harry’s nearly running at this point as Louis stumbles along behind him until Harry stops abruptly at the foot of the staircase. Louis runs smack into him.

“Why’d you stop?” He asks.

Harry swallows. “Um, I was leading you to my bedroom if that’s--uh--okay. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, and I know I said I’d go on a date with you. But we haven’t even gone on one yet. And I didn’t actually say yes, I know, but that’s what all my nodding was about earlier. So hopefully, you caught on that I did in fact want to go on a date with you some--”

“Harry!” Louis interrupts. “Yeah, I kind of got that you might be serious about the date when you pressed your dick up against me. Well, that and all the kissing.”

“Um. Right. Well, I just wanted to make it clear. And also make it clear that I want you now, but it’s okay if you--”

Louis doesn’t let him finish. He grabs Harry’s hand and begins pulling him up the stairs. There are a few doors, but there’s one that’s open and reveals a bed. Louis doesn’t feel any resistance from Harry as he pulls him towards the room, so he figures it must be the right bedroom. Louis topples him onto the bed, yanking Harry’s sweatpants down the long, gorgeous legs he’s been admiring for months, which is when he realizes that the sweatpants was all Harry had been wearing. Louis pauses staring at Harry sprawled out in front of him. The bed is made up, a white duvet sprinkled with a soft pattern of pink flowers. Harry would know what kind of flowers those are, but Louis doesn’t. All he knows is that Harry looks like a debauched angel flung across the bed. His legs are open, his large cock is hard and twitching against his belly, the biceps of his arms are straining as he clutches the duvet in his fists, his teeth are biting down against the pink of his plush lower lip, and his hair is spread out across the pillow in waves of curls. To be honest, Louis has no idea where to even start with how delicious Harry looks right now. Fuck, he wants to be in him as soon as possible.

He glances over at the nightstand, and that’s when he notices there’s lube already out on it. He grabs it and notices the brand.

“Good Clean Love, organic personal lubricant,” he reads aloud. He lets out a bark of laughter.

“Shut up, Lou,” Harry whines. Harry releases one fist from the duvet and gasps as he strokes himself just once.

Louis’ laughter dies as quickly as it started.

“You been imagining this, Harry? Opening yourself up with your fingers, fucking yourself with them while you think about me?”

“Fuck. Louis,” Harry whimpers. “Take off your clothes for fuck’s sake.”

Louis stands up and peels off his shirt as Harry watches avidly, now more interested in Louis’ body than touching his own. Harry suddenly sits up and begins fumbling at Louis’ jeans, trying to force them down his thighs. Harry moans when he finds Louis’ cock hard and ready. Once Harry’s finished undressing him, he crawls up Harry’s body, kissing as he goes and then trailing another path back down his body until he reaches Harry’s large cock. He fills his mouth with it as he lets one slicked up finger enter him, and he hears Harry call out his name.

“Please. Louis, please. Please, please fuck me.”

Louis inserts another finger as Harry writhes on the bed so prettily for him as he begs for Louis and calls out his name over and over like a mantra. Once Louis has three fingers inside him, Harry swears repeatedly that he’s ready. Louis flips them over, so that he’s now on his back with Harry looming over him.

“Do you want to ride me, Harry?”

“Yes, yes. Oh god. Yes, yes, please. Please, Louis,” Harry says as he frantically reaches for a condom from the bedside table.

He rolls it onto Louis, and Louis barely has time to slick himself up a bit before Harry is straddling him and slowly sliding down onto Louis’ cock. Harry holds on to the ornate metal bedpost of his vintage bed frame as he rides Louis into oblivion.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so pretty. Fuck. You feel so good. Such a good boy for me, Harry. A good, good boy.”

The more Louis praises him, the more pink colors Harry’s cheeks as he slides himself up and down, so Louis continues his long strings of praise for how good Harry feels and how pretty he looks on his dick. As Louis feels his orgasm begin to build, he reaches out to grip Harry’s cock and strokes it in time to their thrusts. As Louis thrusts once more, he shouts Harry’s name as he comes with Harry following just after into Louis’ hand.

Harry collapses on top of him for a few moments before gingerly pulling off of him and laying down next to him in the bed. Harry seems to notice the mess he’s made of Louis and frowns. He quickly jumps up and comes back with a washcloth to wipe them up.

They fall asleep amid Harry’s floral print sheets.

He wakes up with his hard on pressing against Harry’s ass and his mouth full of Harry’s wild curls. Fuck, this feels like a really good way to wake up. He rubs a little against Harry until he begins to stir a bit.

“Mhmmm.” The low rumbling of Harry’s voice vibrates through him. “God yes. Please, Louis.”

Louis grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but he makes it work. Harry moans his appreciation and begins stroking himself. He kisses Harry’s neck and back as he plunges his fingers in and out until Harry is begging for it. He pushes Harry up and onto his hands and knees and quickly slides on a condom before he pushes inside him again, the tight, hot heat of him just as good as the night before. Harry’s gasping, and he fucks up into him, holding him close with his chest pressed to Harry’s back. He can’t remember the last time he had sex this good. Maybe he’s never had sex this good. After all, he’s never had sex with anyone like Harry. He props himself on one hand as he drives into Harry and wraps his fingers around his dick, pumping in time with his thrusts until he feels Harry coming into his hand with a shout of Louis’ name. He fucks into him a few more times before he’s coming himself.

He pulls out slowly, and they lay panting a bit still next to each other. Louis grins at him.

“Should have been doing this since your bird came over and told me you thought I was an “unfairly hot, obnoxious soccer hooligan.” Should have come over and fucked you then.”

“Oh my god! My bird did what?” Harry exclaims. Harry covers his face with his large hands. Hmmm, Louis would like to feel those fingers other places he thinks. “I’m mortified. Even more now, if that’s possible.”

“I think your bird has been trying to get us together for a while. She’s been spilling your secrets to me all summer.”

“Jesus.” Harry sits up suddenly. “Okay, well, how about I make you breakfast, and you can forget all about whatever my bird has said.”

“I don’t think I really want to forget, Harry.” He lets a wicked smile cross his face as he raises an eyebrow. “Definitely don’t want to forget what she revealed to me last night.”

“Oh my god. Don’t tell me.” Harry whacks him with a pillow. “Now come keep me company while I make you something delicious, and you never want to leave again.”

Harry drags him into the adjoining bathroom and cleans them up a bit and brushes his teeth before he’ll let Louis kiss him again. It’s strangely intimate and yet completely comfortable somehow. He has the feeling Harry is on the same page with him on this. Whatever _this_ is.

Harry lends him a pair of clean boxer briefs, and they go downstairs to cook breakfast. As soon as Harry lifts the cover off Darcy’s cage, she starts making an odd moaning noise.

And then, “Please, please, fuck me, Louis,” Darcy says, innocently as Louis bursts out laughing.

“Oh my god,” Harry says as he starts trying to shush the bird. “Darcy, please! Be quiet! Haven’t you said enough?”

“It’s okay, Darcy. I appreciate your honesty,” Louis says to her, wiping away tears. “Now, where’s my breakfast you promised? I’m a bit hungry, really.”

“Worked up an appetite, did you?” Harry says with a sly smile.

“Something like that.” Louis grins back.

Harry sets to work chopping vegetables and grating cheese as Louis teases him about how he probably bought it all organic at the farmer’s market and does he know the name of the cow that produced the milk for the cheese? Harry laughs along and promises Louis will be eating his words soon when he tastes this omelette. And yes, by the way the eggs are from a local farm and the bread for toast is homemade.

The omelette turns out to be the best he’s ever tasted, complete with some fancy cheese he’s never even heard of. Gruyere? Tastes a bit like Swiss cheese, but even better somehow. God, the omelette is so buttery it’s melting in his mouth. His moan of pleasure sets Darcy off on a new round of moaning that this time makes them both snicker.

Louis looks across the table at the beautiful boy before him, his dimples creasing his rosy cheeks, and their feet intertwined beneath the table. He can feel this is just the beginning, and he’s so happy to have it all begin.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?”

“Dinner?” Harry asks, hope lighting up his face even further.

“Yes,” Louis says. He can feel his smile beaming back at Harry.

“And in the morning when we wake up together, I’ll take you to the farmer’s market!”

Louis keeps smiling. “Okay, and then after that, I could take you to a movie.”

“Yes! And then, Monday morning we’ll have to get up early, so I’ll set our alarm early enough for morning blow jobs. You know, at the very least anyway.”

“Fuck, that sounds perfect.”

“Then, when you come home from soccer, I’ll make you dinner--”

Louis interrupts. “Tuesday night there’s a Cubs game. My friends are all coming over, and you can meet them all. And when the Cubs win, we can celebrate by you fucking me on top of my Cubs flag.”

Harry slams his mug down on the table a little too hard. “Okay, and next weekend we can go out to my mom’s house, and she’ll make us dinner. You can meet her and my step dad. If that’s not moving too fast.”

“It’s not too fast. I just said I wanted you to fuck me on my Cubs flag after you meet all my friends.”

Harry’s eyes burn into him.

“Louis, get upstairs,” He growls.

“Why?”

“We’re going to practice me fucking you.”

Louis can feel his eyes growing wide. He hops up from the table and makes a run for the stairs with Harry chasing him, pounding up the stairs after him.

It’s just the beginning.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Find out what happens with Louis, Harry, and Darcy the Parrot one year later as they navigate through a native species garden, a weekend away, and Darcy becoming intrigued by Harry’s Amazon Echo…

Harry sips kombucha out of a mason jar and peers out his kitchen windows towards Louis’ backyard. He casts a critical eye over the parts of the landscaping and native species garden that he can see from here. 

A lovely gingko tree stands where an awful Bradford pear tree once stood. Louis was right that the tree needed to come down no matter the reason. It looks just big enough for a small bird feeder now.

“Alexa, order a blown glass hummingbird feeder.”

“I found Hummingbird Feeder with perch. Blown Glass. Autumn Impressions. Holds 28 ounces of nectar. It’s twenty-seven dollars and seventeen cents total. Would you like to buy it?”

“Yes,” Harry answers, still looking out at the yard. 

Although the native species garden he’s planted around Louis’ patio looks quite well, he decides he could use a few more flowers amongst what’s there now. Doesn’t hurt to have some back up seeds, too. 

“Alexa, order wildflower seeds.”

“Based on your order history I found U.S. Native Wildflower Seed Bombs for Pollinators. Midwest Wildflower Mix. It’s nineteen dollars and fifty cents total. Would you like to buy it?”

“Yes,” Harry replies. His eyes drift over to the corner of the planter alongside Louis’ house that’s filled with river rock. 

“Alexa, what can I do with a hundred pounds of river rock?”

“Sorry, I can’t find the answer.”

Harry sighs. “Yes, I don’t know what to do with it all either.”

“Rocks,” Darcy clicks from her cage. “Nice rocks.”

“Traitor,” Harry mutters. He knew he couldn’t get rid of that rock planter the moment he learned how much Darcy liked it. Louis also thought it looked  _ fine _ and didn’t see why anyone would remove it. Harry lets himself mourn the loss of the rose bush that once lived in it for a moment.

Harry finishes off the glass of kombucha and sets it in the sink before turning back towards the windows just in time to see Louis’ truck rumbling down the small alley behind their houses and towards his garage. It puts a smile on his face like nothing else in the world can. 

He sees Louis emerge from the garage and begin walking up the path towards the back door of his house, and he can’t help but admire how unbelievably sexy Louis looks in his soccer shorts. Louis drops his keys, and Harry gets a good look at the press of his ass against the thin white fabric of his shorts. It does things to him. 

Harry hadn’t ever realized his affinity for men in soccer shorts, but he definitely acknowledges it now as he appreciates the muscular curves of Louis’ legs. Louis’ hair has gotten quite shaggy lately and he’s got it held back by a headband, although it hasn’t appeared to help much as his hair is quite damp from the sweaty heat of a June day. He’d quite like to grasp ahold of that hair as Louis’s strong legs wrap around him. 

“Here comes Louis,” Darcy says as she does a little dancing hop on her perch.

It snaps him out of his ogling. “Yes, there’s Louis. He’ll be over later, Darcy.”

“Louis, Louis, Louis,” Darcy says.

“Yeah, we’ve got it pretty bad for him around here, don’t we?”

Louis turns and appears to see them through the glass. He waves and his face breaks out into a large smile, crinkling his eyes in the corners. Harry’s heart gives a lurch of fondness as he smiles and waves back. 

They have a routine now, the two of them. Well, the three of them, really. They always have dinner together around Harry’s kitchen table. Louis seems to quite enjoy Harry’s cooking even if it is vegetarian. Harry’s seen Louis try to cook. He knows that whatever vegetarian dish he’s serving, it’s better than whatever Louis would cook for himself anyway. 

He decides to make some cookies for dessert before he starts on the black bean burritos he’s making for dinner. Seeing Louis in his soccer gear in his yard just now has made him nostalgic. He wants to give him the housewarming cookies he first gave Louis a year ago when he moved next door. He sets out the steel cut oatmeal and Madagascar vanilla, and he and Darcy sing a rousing rendition of “Ooh Love” as Harry whips up a batch of cookies. 

As the cookies bake in the oven he takes a peak in the tea tin and sees one more thing he needs. 

“Alexa, order ginger tea.”

“Based on your order history I found Chopra Center Organic Herbal Tea, Ginger, twenty tea bags. It’s thirteen dollars and thirty-eight cents total. Would you like to buy it?”

“Yes.”

If Louis stuffs himself on burritos and cookies, he’s going to need the last bag of ginger tea.

After dinner, they cover Darcy’s cage, and Harry takes the plate of cookies into the living room with them.

“Who’s moving into a new house?” Louis asks, cookie crumbs falling onto Harry’s couch. “Oops, sorry.”

“No one,” Harry says before grabbing the hand vac and quickly vacuuming up the offending cookie crumbs. 

“But you usually only make these for housewarming gifts,” Louis says between bites and moans of satisfaction. Louis looks so delicious sitting here on his couch in soft joggers, his hair still a little damp from his shower and so obviously enjoying Harry’s baking. 

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs as he watches Louis’ tongue swipe a stray crumb from his lips. “Thought I’d make these special for you. Reminded me of when I first gave them to you when you moved next door. Maybe thought I’d give you a little extra surprise, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Louis waggles his eyebrows as he happily munches a second cookie. To be honest he’s wanted to taste Louis since he saw him walking in from soccer earlier. Scratch that, he’s been wanting to taste Louis since the first time he gave him these cookies a year ago. And while he’s definitely had a taste, he finds it’s never enough. 

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees. He grasps Louis’ tight thighs and presses them apart before scooting in between his legs. Louis’ mouth drops open and a bit of cookie falls onto his shirt. “Oh.”

Harry looks up at him, questioning silently and waiting for a response. 

“Fuck yes,” Louis moans as Harry tugs his joggers down his legs and completely off his body.

Harry settles back in between Louis’ legs again as Louis watches, eyes widening as Harry’s fingers slide over Louis’ hardening cock. Louis takes another bite of cookie and moans louder this time as Harry’s lips and then tongue press against his slit. 

Harry slides his tongue up and down Louis’ length and lets him buck up into his mouth a little. Louis looks glorious like this. His head’s thrown back against the couch, and the taut muscles of his thighs strain under the ministrations of Harry’s hands and mouth. 

“Fuck, Harry. Feels so good.” A few more crumbs fly out of Louis’ mouth. 

Harry lets his lips pop free. “Are you still eating a cookie?”

“Unnnghhh,” Louis whines. “Harry, please. It’s so delicious. Can’t I have both you and the cookie?”

He looks so hopeful that Harry can’t help but give in. 

///

After his delightful cookie blowie, Louis heads home for a bit to pack up a bag. He’s taking Harry away for the weekend to a resort town about an hour and a half from here, and he wants to be able to leave early in the morning. Harry likes to wander around the myriad of shops that line the quaint cobbled streets of the historic district, so he wants to leave him plenty of time to do that before the spa appointments he has set up for the late afternoon at their resort. 

When he returns to Harry’s house, it’s to the sounds of Harry arguing with Darcy. “You said you were hungry, and now you won’t eat the food I’m giving you.”

“Bananas.”

“You can’t just eat bananas, Darcy. Kale is good for you! It’s got a lot of calcium in it.”

“Yummy bread.”

“Here, try some sweet potatoes! You like sweet potatoes.”

“Louis, Louis, Louis. Bananas,” Darcy clicks just before she flies through to the living room and perches on the nearest chair to where Louis stands. 

Harry gives him a withering look as he walks into the living room to join them. When Darcy is out and about, she tends to prefer to sit near Louis. 

“Traitor,” Harry mutters. 

Louis knows she prefers him because of all the snacks he sneaks her, particularly if she’s at his house. He has a little stockpile of her favorites, mostly bananas and Hostess Cup Cakes. If it weren’t for him, Darcy would be stuck eating only organic seeds or some shit. 

“Maybe she still hasn’t forgiven you for the grape incident,” Louis cackles. 

“A little organic soil would have been good for her!” Harry insists. “I just figured that’s how parrots would find fruit in the wild.”

Harry only sulks a little when Darcy eats the sweet potatoes that Louis feeds her along with a bit of banana. 

When Louis wakes up the next morning, he can hear Harry bustling around the kitchen downstairs. He stretches out his body and smiles, anticipating whatever it is Harry is cooking them for breakfast. By the time he takes a quick shower and clambers down the stairs two at a time, he can hear Niall talking to Darcy in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, H. Gonna have a great time with me mate, Darcy, here. Aren’t we Darce?”

“Niall. Cupcake. Yummy bread. Niall, Niall, Niall,” Darcy says with what Louis could almost say is fondness in her voice. 

Harry sighs as he flips an omelette over in a pan at the stove. “Don’t let her talk you into too many cupcakes, Niall.” 

They have an amazing day. They drive north up the Great River Road, which is something they both love to do in any season. It’s particularly lovely and mild today, a brief reprieve from the normal humidity of June. Harry stops in far too many shops and buys far too many little gifts to send to Louis’ siblings, especially considering he has yet to actually meet them. Something Louis would like to change someday soon. 

Their spa date leads into a romantic dinner at the resort overlooking Lake Galena.

“Tomorrow, I thought we’d go for a hike in the morning and then maybe hit up some vineyards for wine tasting in the afternoon.”

“Sounds amazing, Louis,” Harry sighs as he gazes into his eyes. Louis knows this look. He’s done good. This is the look of a man who has been thoroughly romanced. In the year he’s known Harry, he’s come to fully appreciate the soft green of this look that speaks of a soppy brand of affection that Harry seems to have for him. He loves putting this look on his face. 

Louis is quite used to planning out things in advance at work, and it applies surprisingly well to planning events for his very-susceptible-to-romance boyfriend. Now seems like the right time to ask. He blurts it out before he can lose his nerve.

“HarrywouldyoucometoDoncastertomeetmyfamily?”

Harry’s brows furrow a bit. 

“What--oh,” Harry says as he seems to catch up with what Louis has asked. “Um--are you sure they want to meet me or--”

Louis clasps his hands across the table. “Harry, you’re the love of my life. Obviously, my family wants to meet you. You’re so important to me, love.”

Louis screws up his courage a little more and continues. “I want to talk to you about moving in together, too. I want to keep building a life with you.”

Louis isn’t completely sure what he expected Harry to say or think about all this, but he’s a little taken aback by Harry’s response. The soft green of his eyes have turned to sharp green flames of desire. 

The waiter stops at the table, and before he can say a word, Harry growls out, “Charge it to the room.”  

Harry pulls him a bit abruptly from his chair and grips his hand tightly as he leads Louis quickly out of the restaurant and towards the elevator, presumably to head back to their suite.

“What are you doing?” Louis laughs. He’s pretty sure he knows what Harry is doing. 

The elevator doors slide open, and Harry pulls him roughly inside and presses him against the wall of the elevator, kissing him breathless. 

“Is that a yes?” Louis asks against the press of Harry’s lips.

“Yes, I want to come home with you and meet your family and move in together and build a life with you,” Harry gasps out. “Fuck, all this turns me on so much.”

“Mmmmm,” Louis moans as Harry’s lips attach to a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear. “Same, actually.”

When they arrive home two days later, there’s a box on the front porch and more in the entrance way that Niall has stacked up. 

Louis shakes his head. “You’ve got an Amazon addiction, love.”

Harry flushes a bit. “Using Alexa makes it a little too easy sometimes. I don’t remember ordering  _ that _ much though.”

“Ah, the lovebirds are home!” Niall exclaims as he walks in from the kitchen with Darcy perched on his shoulder. She gives a few clicks of acknowledgement. Clearly, she hasn’t missed them much with Niall around to spoil her. 

The first box Harry opens reveals a glass bird feeder of some sort as far as Louis can tell. Harry examines it with a smile. Then, he pulls out a package of seed packets and a box of ginger tea. Harry frowns at the other boxes as he opens them. 

“What the--”

Louis peers in at a box that appears to be entirely filled with bananas. “I didn’t know you even ordered your bananas on Amazon. Are they special or summat? Some organic ones?”

“No, I don’t order bananas from Amazon!” Harry insists.

The next box has more bananas. The third box holds multiple boxes of Hostess Cup Cakes. The fourth box contains yet more cupcakes and also one package of organic roasted sunflower seeds. 

Three pairs of eyes all turn to the bird on Niall’s shoulder. Darcy clicks.

“Yummy bread. Hostess Cup Cakes.”

Harry stares at Darcy as he says, “Alexa, read my shopping list.”

“Fresh organic bananas. Fresh organic bananas. Fresh organic bananas. Hostess Cup Cakes. Hostess Cup Cakes. Hostess Cup cakes. Promescent prolonging climax control duration gel--”

“Stop reading! Stop, Alexa, stop!” Harry yells, his face turning a rather bright shade of pink as Niall laughs hysterically.

“Think I know a little too much now about you two,” Niall manages to gasp out between trills of laughter. 

Louis grins as he looks around at the boxes of Darcy’s treats littering the living room floor. He smiles at her clever face for a moment. 

“Louis with the blue eyes,” Darcy says.

He’ll have to be careful about talking about the engagement ring he’s planning to buy when he’s around Darcy. He really doesn’t want Darcy ordering him fifty of them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this silly fic! I had no idea that a fic about a parrot would be the thing people wanted most from me. bahahaha. I'm so glad that people enjoyed it and wanted more. I don't even know how many people have sent me posts about African grey parrots using Alexa, but this epilogue is dedicated to all of you who sent me those posts. I hope you enjoyed this little continuation of the story! <3 <3
> 
> You can reblog the fic post with the note about the epilogue [HERE](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/171488541026/allwaswell16-thats-how-i-know-by). Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos and lovely posts and feedback! They really mean so much to me. <3
> 
> And a huge thank you to my beta taggiecb for holding my hand as always. <3

**Author's Note:**

> The song Harry and Darcy sing in the fic is Blaze Foley's "Ooh Love," which was featured on Harry's mix tape in Another Man magazine. A few events were based on a friend's experience with a neighbor. I'm still getting photographs of her very hated Bradford pear trees. 
> 
> The original prompt: Harry has a crush on his next door neighbour, Louis, and he’s trying to pluck up the courage to ask him out, but he’s nervous so he rehearses what to say with his pet African Grey parrot, who has been his companion since he was a kid. One day, the parrot somehow escapes and ends up at Louis’ place, spilling Harry’s plans to him.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos or comments if you liked it! And you can [reblog this fic post and I will love you forever!](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/164147421676/thats-how-i-know-by-allwaswell16-for)


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